PREFACE, 



It has been said that trulv s^reat men do not like to talk 

 about themselves; and why should they, when their names and 

 deeds are in the mouths of all the people ? 



If the little ones of the world don't speak out for themselves, 

 how can they be heard from ? 



Therefore, we pray the indulgence of our readers and trust 

 they will make due allowance for the egotistical little word 

 " I," so frequently used in this bungling production. 



In the very outset, we confess our verdancy in the art of 

 book-making, and in taking the risk are fully aware of our lia- 

 bility to be cropped by the frisky kine from the herds of the 

 literati — especially the gory ones from the clover pastures of 

 authordom — and if any such should stray in our rural pathway, 

 and perchance nip from our coarser tufts, the greens are not 

 unwholesome — won't hurt them ; they are welcome. Our wild 

 grass ranges, or commons, are not intended for them, but for 

 the people — God bless them — the best of all. 



We are unacquainted with the science of music, absolutely 

 in the dark as to its very rudiments, yet have observed when 

 we chassa our horse-hair across the bridge of our old fiddle, 

 that our hearers are inclined to pat their feet. 



Nor do we make any pretense to erudition, elegance of dic- 

 tion, metrical verse, or even to grammatical sentences ; but if 



